


In the Halls of Valhalla

by baconhorcrux



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Valhalla, allison is a true warrior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:31:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4488414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconhorcrux/pseuds/baconhorcrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Allison dies, she wakes up in Valhalla, where all true warriors who die in battle go. She tries to come to grips with her afterlife, and watches over those she left behind as best she can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Halls of Valhalla

Allison Argent opened her eyes.

She lay on a bed too soft to be her own, staring up at a vaulted ceiling in a room made of stunning architecture that wasn’t her home. She blinked, and that was all it took for the knowledge to settle itself in her brain. The Oni. The Nogitsune. The fight. The sword diving into the soft skin of her abdomen. Bleeding out in Scott’s arms. Dying.

Allison was dead, she knew. She knew it like she knew her name, like she knew that her friends were alive, like she knew that this place she woke up in was nothing like any sort of afterlife she’d ever dreamed of. Slowly, she breathed in, then out, letting herself relax on this impossibly soft bed, feeling each part of her body move, each muscle expand and contract one by one.

There was something in her hand, she realized. Something small, and pointed. She shifted her head, about to look at it, when a baritone voice rang out through the small room, breaking the silence.

“Ah, Lady Argent! Awake at last, I see,” a man said, and she looked over and felt her breath catch in her throat. The man had shoulder-length blond hair, and a wide, sunny smile. He was big, too, ridiculously big, as big as a fully-shifted alpha werewolf. Maybe bigger, actually. But there was nothing remotely threatening about him, the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes betraying a gentle nature his muscles tried to hide. Idly, Allison wondered if this was what Derek would have been like, had her aunt never burned his family to the ground.

“I,” she started, then stopped, unsure what to say. She took a breath, tried again. “Where am I?” Even as she said it, she got a feeling she knew the answer. The man - she knew his face, had seen it before. This place…

“You are in Asgard, Lady Argent. I am Thor, son of Odin, and I am here to greet you,” the man said, smiling kindly but not so blindingly. His smile made him think of Kira, when she’d first spoken to them of death and demons, back before she knew how real it all was.

“Asgard?” Allison sat up, closing her fist over the object in her hand, unconsciously hiding it from him.

“Yes, Asgard. The land of the gods, as your people might call it. It is where great warriors come after dying in battle.” Here Thor’s expression turned, not sad, just apologetic. “I understand Midgardians do not take well to the idea of death, but this is a grand place, and you will fit in well here. You proved yourself, and now you will lead a life befitting your brave and kind nature.”

He paused, then, looking her calculatingly in the eye. Allison drew herself up straighter, returning the stare. “If, of course, you will have it.”

She felt herself smile. The motion felt foreign to her. “I will,” she said. “Of course I will.”

Thor leaned back, clapping his hands together in a loud motion that, were she alive and on Earth, might have hurt Allison’s ears. She still flinched slightly, expecting it to. “Grand! Let us celebrate! The others are quite excited, we do not get recieve many grand warriors, especially not ones that have been fighting such magnificent creatures!” He had already turned as he spoke, leaving out a door to the side of the room.

Allison didn’t move to follow at first, instead taking a deep breath, looking down at her hands. She opened her clenched fist, and felt tears well when she saw what she held.

A silver arrow head.

***

Asgard was nothing like Allison might have expected. She’d learned about it a little, in school, known about the Norse mythology in that vague way most kids did, same as the Greek and Egyptian mythologies. She had always expected Valhalla to be a) filled solely with men and b) a place people spent all of their time drinking themselves into stupors.

Granted, there was still quite a bit of drinking going on, but the gender ratio was a lot more even then she expected, and people did other things. People lived lives, had families, smiled and laughed as well as performed mock battles. Everything here was so carefree, so happy.

Allison spent her days involved in various activities, to keep hereself busy, her mind away from the friends she’d left back on Earth - on Midgard. She practiced archery with Fandral, sparred with Lady Sif, spoke with Frigga about politics and ruling. (Allison was quite relieved to hear from Frigga that the queen thought she’d done rather well for herself, at seventeen and leader of her family. It lifted a weight Allison didn’t realize she was carrying.)

Some days, though, she stepped away from them, and sat with Odin in the great hall, or stood with him on a balcony. They didn’t say much to each other, but they didn’t need to. He reminded her of Derek, in a way, with his stoic, solemn nature, staring out at his dominion with a mind full of all the duties to be performed. But she knew, because she’d learned with Derek, that such stoicism was as much an act as it was truth, and she worked on pulling him out of it a little.

She would talk with him of werewolves and demons, idly playing with his ravens - Huginn, Muninn, she could never tell the difference between them - and trying to teach the two how to say “Nevermore”. It was something she thought Stiles would approve of, and she could hear his laughter in her ears at her attempts, knew he’d try to help, do research about it. It had been so long since she’d heard his laugh - since she’d heard any of their laughs, even before she’d died. Things had been so hard, for so long. She missed them, greatly, and worried about them constantly.

Which is why, one day, Allison found herself convincing Odin to walk with her to Heimdall, to bring him tea and something to eat. Odin said he hardly needed it, he was the Gatekeeper, he would be fine. But Allison insisted. It didn’t matter if someone needed food - it was the gesture, of good will and care, that mattered. So they took a tray out to him, and sat, and talked.

And the next day, Allison came back, this time by herself. She brought another tray, and sat and talked with the Gatekeeper. And the next, and the next after that, and so on. Each time, she stopped herself from asking, fearful of the answer, and not wanting to seem rude. She enjoyed Heimdall’s company, too, after all. He was a good man, funny when he wanted to be. He reminded her of Boyd, to a degree. And of the Sheriff, too. Always watchful.

In the end, it was he who broached the subject. “Are you going to ask me what you’ve come to ask?” he said, turning to look at her with amusement when she spluttered.

“I - I didn’t want to seem rude,” she said, finally, looking down at her feet. “Like I was using you.” Because Allison knew something of being used, of having herself twisted for someone else’s end game.

Plus, she thought, I’m scared. I’m scared of the answer. I’m scared they’re all dead.

Heimdall chuckled, deep in his chest.

“It is all right. This is what I do, all day, every day. You can ask.” He fell silent again, and Allison realized that he would wait. He would not say anything until she asked out-right. He would not take that from her.

That, strangely, gave her courage, and she nodded once, lifting her gaze to look him in the eye. “How are my friends?” she said, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. “Are they all right? Are Scott and Kira together? Is Isaac… okay? I want to know if he’s found anyone. If Derek’s still with the pack, if Stiles…” her breath hitched now, thinking of Stiles, who she’d last seen sick and pale, “if Stiles is alright, if he’s laughing again. And Lydia… how she’s doing, if she has anyone to - to talk to, now, to keep her grounded.” She paused, bringing one hand up to fold around the silver arrow she kept hung around her neck. Her eyes broke contact with Heimdall briefly as she took a breath, steadied herself.

“I want to know if my father’s okay.”

Heimdall stared at her for a moment, like he was silently sizing her up. She felt miniscule, suddenly, so small and unimportant, and she wanted to take back her questions, scoop the words back into her chest as though they’d never spilled out in the first place. But she didn’t. She steadied her quaking limbs and held her ground, just like she’d done so many times before.

Finally, Heimdall gave a slight nod of his head and looked away, staring ahead, seeing whatever it was that he saw.

“Your friends are all right. They defeated the Nogitsune, without killing the boy. He isn’t happy, yet, but he’s doing better. The pack are together, living, though they mourn you. Stiles and Lydia have become very close friends, helping each other heal. Derek and Isaac are fine, or think they will be, and Scott and Kira are together.” He stopped, there, and Allison nodded, letting out a slow, measured breath. Right. Okay.

“And… my dad?”

Here, Heimdall looked at her again. “He is suffering, I am sorry to say. He misses you, and blames himself for your death. But he will be alright, with time. Everything takes time.”

“Does he,” Allison’s breath hitched as her throat spasmed closed, tears springing to her eyes, but she forged on, “does he have anyone? To talk to?”

Heimdall nodded. “Him and the Sheriff have become friends, as well as Melissa. The two are keeping an eye on him.”

Allison nodded, first slowly then quickly, until she realized her whole body was shaking. They were okay. Maybe not perfect, but okay. They were alive. They were alive.

“Lady Argent…” Heimdall started, but he didn’t get further before Allison surged forward, hugging him tightly. He startled, stiffening in surprise.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the hard metal of his armored chest.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said, and when Allison looked up, he had a small smile on his face that she returned with a blinding, if watery, one of her own.

***

She kept going to see Heimdall, after that. Mostly just to say hi, but sometimes to inquire about her friends. It helped to keep tabs on them, stemmed her worry. She learned that Lydia was gaining control of her banshee powers, that Stiles had laughed at something Scott had said, that they’d all dragged Derek out to get a new apartment, one with actual walls and furniture this time.

She learned that her father was hurting deep, that he struggled with his pain, but he seemed to be moving onward, at least, so Allison tried not to let herself worry about it. He would be fine. He would be fine.

Then one day she heard that Thor was returning to Midgard, to help his love Jane with something. No sooner had Fandral said this than Allison took off, sprinting through the streets and buildings to the gate, where Thor would be leaving. She got there just in time, skidding to a stop in front of Thor and Heimdall, breathing heavy.

“Thor, wait - I - ” she wheezed a bit, trying to speak and catch her breath at the same time.

“Settle your lungs, Lady Argent, you have overworked yourself,” Thor said. Allison nodded, waving away his words as she finally straightened with one last, deep breath.

“I was wondering - I mean - if it wouldn’t be a problem,” she said, cringing guiltily at what she was about to ask.

“Lady Allison…” Thor said, his voice kindly, softer, though still loud. “I cannot take you with me. I thought you understood - ”

“No! No, I do, it’s not that.” She shook her head, holding up her hands. She knew she couldn’t return to Midgard, to Earth. It was part of the deal. She had died there, and come here; there was no returning for her, not even for a visit. “I just… I was wondering, if you had time, if you could stop by Beacon Hills. And see - tell my friends that I’m okay. That I’m happy and doing well, and watching over them.

"And, if you can, if you could tell my dad… tell him to stop blaming himself. Tell him, if I had the chance, I would do everything again, make the same choices. That I don’t regret any of it.” She stopped, there, eyes wet with unshed tears, knowing how desperate she must look. Logically, she knew Thor was going down for more important things than this, but… if he could… if he had a chance… well, she had to ask. She had to.

Thor grinned, that bright and sunny smile, and nodded his head. “Of course, Lady Argent. If I can, I shall find your Beacon Hills and relay your message.”

Her whole body relaxed, and she darted forward, giving him a brief, strong hug before pulling back. “Thank you. Thank you.” Then she stepped back, watching as Heimdall opened the gate for Thor to go through. But before he did, she shouted out one more thing, “Oh, and Thor? Tell my dad - tell him I’m saving him a seat in the great hall, okay? So he better be following my code.”

Thor smiled, nodded, and then stepped through the gate, gone. Allison let out a breath. Now to wait.

***

Thor didn’t return for over a week, and in that time, Allison took to avoiding the gate. She didn’t want to know if he’d found time to go to Beacon Hills, not until he’d returned and the moment had passed. So she kept herself busy in other ways, sparring with the other warriors, trading secrets and hints, helping take care of children who, when it came down to it, were just like kids back on Earth, and found her tales of werewolves and demons endlessly fascinating.

When he finally did return, she didn’t rush to him. There was much fanfare, and so she stood back, on the edge of the crowd. Probably he didn’t have time. Probably there were more important things going on than her silly request. Her friends were fine, they were alive and healing, they didn’t need a stupid message from her anyways.

She’d almost convinced herself to leave the area, maybe return to her room, when Thor walked over, shaking off his friends and family as he did so. They all looked between them, then nodded and left, leaving Allison cringing at how obvious she’d been in her anxiety. She was supposed to be stronger than this, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart ached with the idea that her friends weren’t moving on.

“Lady Allison!” Thor said, throwing his arms out in an expansive gesture. “You will be relieved to hear I did as you asked.”

“You did?”

“Indeed! Your Beacon Hills is quite the quaint place. And I had always wished to meet a werewolf - they are everything I prayed they would be! The Pack, as they call themselves, and I had much fun playing at war.” Allison couldn’t help but smile and laugh at that, picturing just how much fun they’d have.

“I relayed your message, and they seemed to take it to heart. The banshee and the one who goes by the name Stiles said they were utterly unsurprised to find out where you were, and Stiles, for reasons I don’t understand, said you ‘had better be teaching Odin’s ravens to say 'Nevermore”.“ At this, Allison rolled his eyes. He would ask that. She so called it.

Now, Thor put a hand on her shoulder, leaning in slightly. "I saw your father. He is not doing so well, but when I told him what you said, he held himself a little taller and spoke like the warrior I know him to truly be. I do think he will be just fine, Lady Argent.”

Allison nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She realized, then, that she never should have doubted Thor, that he probably took so long getting back just to keep his word. Because he knew what it was like to be separated from your father and worry about his well being, without being able to do anything about it. He understood why she’d asked.

He looked at her another moment, then nodded, satisfied, giving her shoulder a squeeze before letting go and walking away. After a couple stops, though, he stopped, and half-turned back.

“Oh! And I almost forgot,” he said, putting a hand in his pocket, “Alpha Scott wished for me to give you this.” He threw something at her, and she caught it instinctively, without even looking at it. Thor grinned again.

“Just in case you forgot yours.”

Allison looked down at her hand, and felt a wide smile spread across her cheeks.

It was a pen.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my tumblr here: [yankeed00dledoctor](yankeed00dledoctor.tumblr.com)


End file.
